


[un]Lucky

by Beauxxxtiful_lies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauxxxtiful_lies/pseuds/Beauxxxtiful_lies
Summary: It wasn’t that Matsukawa didn’t believe in soulmates. He just didn’t believehehad a soulmate. There was no point waiting around for someone who probably didn’t exist. Right?That’s what he had decided. Until a customer having a really unlucky day comes stumbling into the coffee shop where he works...and he can’t shake the feeling that the two of them are somehow connected.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 21
Kudos: 239





	[un]Lucky

**Author's Note:**

> Find a penny  
> pick it up  
> and all day long  
> you’ll have good luck  
> * * *  
> Give it to  
> a faithful friend  
> and then your luck  
> will never end

These are the best days, Matsukawa thought to himself as he lazily swiped a rag over the linoleum countertop. The shop was quiet, the smell of ground coffee beans and caramel wrapping him like a warm blanket. Music played softly in the background, the gentle strum of acoustic guitar and sweet melodies blocking out the sound of the rain hammering down outside as he pushed the cloth in slow circles. Even his normally chatty co-worker Oikawa was quiet as he hummed along to the tune, artfully writing out their new drink specials in a looping font on the chalkboard behind the counter.

There were just a few of their usual regulars scattered around the small seating area, scribbling in notebooks, or snuggled into one of the cozy leather armchairs, flipping through dog-eared novels in between sips of their cappuccinos and nibbles of pastry. The rain will keep most customers away today.

Yep. These are the best days.

The door swung open behind him, the bell over it tinkling lightly before it slammed closed again, blocking out the sound of the rain that had started pounding down harder outside.

“Good morning,” he called out over his shoulder. “Welcome to the Blue Leaf, what can I get...you?” He turned toward the door and had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at the sight. “A towel, perhaps?” Oikawa snickered beside him, trying and failing to cover the sound with a cough.

The customer looked up at him with water pouring down his face, breathing heavily as it dripped from his strawberry blonde bangs and trickled down his cheeks to pool in the collar of his very wet t-shirt. The heathered grey fabric clung to his skin in dark patches. He blinked dumbly at Matsukawa for a few seconds, like he was still processing how he’d ended up here, dripping all over the floor of a coffee house.

“Is it a good morning? I hadn’t noticed.” Sarcasm dripped from his tongue as rainwater collected at his feet. He shook his head, flinging water into the air, and his shoes made slick squelching sounds as he made his way toward the counter. “Is that a real offer though? Because I could really use a towel if you’ve got one. Pretty sure even my underwear is soaked,” he said with a grimace.

Matsukawa huffed a laugh, “Well, I can’t help you with that, but I might have something in my bag. Hang on. Oikawa, watch the counter.”

He stepped into the back room where he’d stashed his things before beginning his shift. He’d planned to hit the gym after work, and usually kept a towel with his workout gear. When he reached into his bag he got a flash of something, like a memory, there and gone in a blink like the image was imprinted on the backs of his eyelids—a face tipped back, eyes crinkled with laughter, and cheeks dusted with pink under strawberry blonde hair.

Weird.

He dug through the bag, but came up empty. Hmm, bad luck, he thought as he plucked a few clean rags off the supply shelf, the ones they use to wipe down tables and clean up spills. That would have to do.

He emerged from the back room to catch the stranger wringing his sopping wet t-shirt out onto the tiled floor just in front of the counter. Matsukawa’s eyes were drawn instantly to his bare stomach where he’d peeled his shirt up. Rivulets of water trickled down his pale skin following the dips and lines of muscle to collect in his waistband. Matsukawa cleared his throat, averting his gaze and focusing instead on the puddle that had formed beneath him. 

“Oh...sorry,” he muttered when he looked up to catch Matsukawa’s eye.

“It’s fine,” Matsukawa replied handing over the bundle of rags. “I didn’t have an actual towel. Must have forgotten it when I packed my bag this morning.”

“That’s okay. That’s just my luck today.”

The man set about drying himself while Matsukawa stood there on the other side of the counter, watching him with a smirk. He was certain he’d never seen him before, but something about him seemed so familiar. “Can I get you something?” He got a raised eyebrow in response so he gestured toward the menu over his shoulder, “A drink? This is a coffee shop, you know.”

“O-oh...I lost my wallet this morning...I just ducked in to get out of the rain. I’ll just, um...maybe I’ll just go.” He turned toward the door, and just when he did the torrent picked up, licking along the window ledges and blurring the view of the street outside. He hesitated and turned back toward Matsukawa, “Or not. Sorry...kinda havin’ a rough day...” He dug into his pocket, pulling out two damp crumpled bills and a coin. “What can two bucks and one probably cursed penny get me?”

He dropped the cash onto the counter. The penny made a _tink_ as he placed it down and slid it across the surface under his index finger. Matsukawa grinned at him, turning his back for just a moment before returning to slide a mug across the counter toward him, filled to the brim with a steaming dark roast.

He reached out, looping his fingers around the handle of the mug and lifting it off the counter, but just as he did it came crashing back down. He yelped as hot coffee splattered up across his arm, and spilled over the counter in a torrent of scalding brew and shattered porcelain. He stood there with the handle still clutched in his fingers. It had broken clean off the mug which then exploded across the counter where it fell.

“Woah, are you okay?” Matsukawa asked as Oikawa swooped in with fresh rags and a waste bin. He got a shaky nod in response, and Matsukawa couldn’t tell if it was rainwater or tears that beaded in the corners of his eyes, but something in his chest tightened at the man’s forlorn expression.

Oikawa patted his arm dry, voice soft like he was trying to soothe a frightened creature as he checked to make sure he hadn’t been burned. “I’ve never seen that happen. You really are having a rough day, aren’t you?”

“You could say that,” he muttered.

“What’s your name? Or should we just call you unlucky?” Oikawa prodded gently, trying to coax a smile out of him, but he only looked more miserable.

“Hanamaki....Takahiro,” he croaked out.

“Okay, Makki-chan. I’m Oikawa, and this is Mattsun. How about you go take a seat and we bring you something to warm you up while you wait out the rain?” Oikawa gently pried the broken mug handle out of his tensed fingers. When he did Matsukawa had another whisper of memory—this time of hands interlocked, and delicate fingers carding through his dark curls. It felt so solid for a moment, but as soon as he reached for it it vanished.

His fingertips tingled—he couldn’t explain it, but he itched to trade places with Oikawa, to be the one holding this stranger’s hand in that moment rather than standing back helplessly. It felt wrong. Probably because he’d been the one to hand him the shoddy mug in the first place. That had to be it...just the pangs of guilt.

Hanamaki looked conflicted, like he was torn between wanting to protest and wanting to hide out from both the literal and metaphorical rain cloud over his head. His eyes flicked down to the spill on the counter that was starting to drip onto the floor.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Go. Sit,” Matsukawa ordered, shooing him away from the counter as he set about cleaning the mess, sopping up spilled coffee and carefully tossing broken shards of porcelain into the trash. “And maybe don’t touch anything else,” he added with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrow.

“O...okay,” he hesitantly mumbled giving Matsukawa an odd look before making his way toward a table.

Oikawa watched him go, trailing water across the floor. “Poor guy,” he muttered before turning to Mattsun. “Have you got this? I’ll go make him a latte.”

“Actually...make it a caramel hazelnut.”

Oikawa quirked an eyebrow at the request, “Oddly specific, Mattsun. That’s pretty sweet, how do you know he’ll drink that?”

“Just...a feeling,” he muttered, hand stilling over the counter. “Do you recognize him? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before but...”

“But what?” Oikawa looked at him with eyes narrowed.

Matsukawa shook his head, tossing another piece of broken mug into the trash, “Nothing, never mind. Just make him a latte.”

Oikawa’s hand went absentmindedly to his left shoulder, brushing over the spot where Matsukawa knew his soul mark was hidden beneath his shirt. His soulmate, Iwaizumi, had a matching mark that spread out from his right shoulder. Soulmates weren’t exactly rare, but it was rare to find yours. Especially rare to find yours so young the way that Oikawa and Iwaizumi had found each other.

Matsukawa would have said that it turned him into a hopeless romantic, but knowing Oikawa he would have been that way regardless of whether he’d found his soulmate or not. It was fine except for feeling like his friend had him under constant surveillance. Whenever they would hang out—he, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and whatever smattering of university friends they could scrape together—he felt like his every move was being studied. Those vigilant chocolate brown eyes watching him closely so that his every lingering glance at someone would end in a not so gentle, “Just go say something. What if it’s _them?!_ ” from Oikawa.

It was annoying, to say the least.

He hadn’t ever been one to dwell on such things. After all, how could he miss something he wasn’t sure was actually there to begin with? There was no proof that everyone had a soulmate. The mark wouldn’t appear until you met your person, and even then a true connection had to be made before it blossomed across your skin from the point the two of you first made contact.

Whenever Oikawa tried to bring it up, tried to challenge Issei about why he was so against the idea, he always told him the same thing. “It’s not worth worrying about someone who probably doesn’t exist.” And that was that. Even though Oikawa never believed him. Even though on some days he felt a pull so strong in his chest that even he had trouble denying that there was someone out there waiting for him, feeling that same draw.

Oikawa snatched the rag out of Matsukawa’s hand, “On second thought, I’ll finish cleaning up. You go make it.” He shoved Mattsun toward the espresso machine. “Your latte art is better than mine, I still need to practice. And take it to him when you’re done,” he added quickly. “It’s time for you to take your break anyway.”

“I can take my break after I mop the floor.”

“I’ll mop up the floor, too. Just go!”

Fine, he thought rolling his eyes to himself. He didn’t care enough to try and fight him. Plus, he hated mopping, so as long as Oikawa was offering to clean it didn’t matter what his motive was.

Matsukawa set to work, the hum of the grinder filling the room as he prepared the espresso. He considered calling out to Hanamaki to ask him what he’d like, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he already knew. He flew through the motions before he could reconsider, adding the syrups and skillfully pouring in the milk until a flower blossomed in the glass.

On a whim, he turned back, plucking a few cream puffs out of the display case and stacking them neatly on a dish. Then he stuffed Makki’s money into his apron pocket before he stepped out from behind the counter, cup and saucer in one hand and pastries in the other. 

He found Hanamaki huddled at the table nearest the radiator, shivering slightly but looking considerably drier than when he had first burst through the door. He sat the plates down in front of him.

“Mmm...pretty,” Hanamaki hummed. The corners of his mouth curving into a soft smile as he looked down at the milk foam flower in his drink. _So pretty_ —Matsukawa felt his eyes flash wide at the thought and his hand shot to the back of his neck to cover the blush he felt creeping up to his ears.

He cleared his throat. “Well, Bad Luck Brian, I’m on break...apparently,” he said with a dry look toward Oikawa who was not so subtly watching him out of the corner of his eye as he mopped up the floor around the counter. “Mind if I join you?”

“Memes Mattsun?!” he said as he let out a surprised laugh. “Fine, but don’t blame me if you catch my bad luck.”

Matsukawa shrugged and pulled out the chair across from him, “Actually, it’s Matsukawa...Issei. And don’t worry, I know a little bit about bad luck. After all, I’m friends with that guy,” he said gesturing toward Oikawa with a nod. Oikawa huffed an indignant “Rude Mattsun!” from across the room while Hanamaki snickered.

He tossed Makki’s money onto the table, but when he made no move to take it back he fixed him with a pointed look. “Listen, you’ve had a bad enough day. I’m not going to make you pay for coffee that exploded in your face.”

“Okay...thanks,” Hanamaki said as he reluctantly stuffed the bills back into his pocket, but he eyed the penny suspiciously as he wrapped his hands around the mug Matsukawa had placed in front of him.

“What, you really think that penny is cursed?”

“Well, my day was going fine until I picked that up. Then I realized my phone and wallet were missing. I missed my bus. My umbrella broke as soon as it started raining. The gallery I was trying to get to was closed when I got there. I got splashed with muddy puddle water. Oh, and I think I mentioned, _my underwear is wet._ ” He sighed heavily, shoulders tight as he breathed in the sweet aroma from his coffee.

“Hmm...I think you’re right. That’s a bad penny.”

“What’s that saying? Find a penny, pick it up, and all day long you’ll have good luck,” he sing-songed in a sarcastic voice. “Yeah right. So much for that.”

Matsukawa watched him take a tentative sip, still tensed like he was waiting for the ceiling to crash down on him at any moment, but as soon as the foam touched his lips his eyes slipped closed. A soft blissful sound escaped his throat, and it eased the pressure in Mattsun’s chest to watch the stress melt away with every sip.

“You know about the rest of that saying though, right? Face down, leave it on the ground.” At Makki’s quirked eyebrow he continued, “You can flip it over for the next person, but it’s bad luck if you pick it up yourself.”

“You’re joking,” Hanamaki deadpanned looking between Matsukawa and the heads down penny lying on the table between them. He groaned, then flipped it over and slid it toward Mattsun. “You take it. I’m afraid if I keep it I’ll get hit by a bus on the way home or something.”

“We can’t have that,” he chuckled low and warm as he picked up the coin and rolled it between his fingers. “You know, if that coffee’s too sweet I can get you something else. You don’t have to humor me.”

Hanamaki clutched the mug to his chest like Matsukawa had threatened to reach out and take it from him. “Don’t you dare! This is the best thing that’s happened to me all day,” he shouted as he popped one of the cream puffs in his mouth. “Oh wow, I take it back,” he said, words muffled around a mouthful of pastry and whipped cream. “That is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”

“Well, good. Maybe that means your luck is finally turning around.”

“Yeah, maybe...” Hanamaki blinked up at him through his lashes, and though he was sure he kept it from showing on his face, the sheepish grin Makki gave him made his heart stutter in his chest as he slipped the coin into his apron pocket.

Talking to Hanamaki was easy. They fell into conversation like old friends. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d laid eyes on each other. He’d been on his way to see a gallery exhibit for one of his classes when his streak of bad luck hit. As it turned out, Hanamaki was a student at the nearby school of art. Matsukawa’s university was several blocks in the opposite direction; it was no wonder he’d never seen him around campus, but he still couldn’t shake that feeling that he knew him from somewhere.

Maybe he just wished that he knew him. Especially when Makki leaned back in his chair, a contented grin and warm glow spread over his cheeks. He really, really wished that he knew him.

When he finally looked up the cafe had all but cleared out, only a few people were left scattered about the room. Matsukawa glanced toward the clock and realized that they had talked for far longer than his break allowed. It wasn’t like they were busy, and Oikawa had made no move to call him back. Still, he felt guilty.

“I should probably get back to work,” he said sliding his chair back reluctantly.

“Oh, sure. Sorry to keep you,” Hanamaki said with a glance toward the front of the shop. “Looks like the rain stopped. I should probably get going. Thanks for the coffee...and the cream puffs...and, you know...for not throwing me out on my ass when I came in wrecking up the place.”

“If it happens again I might have to. I don’t think Oikawa will offer to take my mopping duties next time.”

Hanamaki threw his head back and laughter burst out of him, eyes crinkled and cheeks flushed. It made Matsukawa want to cup his face in his hands and kiss him until he was breathless. Or...maybe he should calm down...just start with a phone number.

He shook his head, a half smile pulling at his lips as he stood to clear the table, stacking the plate and saucer. Hanamaki wiped at his eyes with the back of his right hand, offering his empty mug to Mattsun with the other. When he reached out for the cup the tips of their fingers brushed and then everything stopped. All his senses narrowed to that single point of contact as the featherlight touch sent tingles up his arm.

The mug clattered back down to the tabletop. Matsukawa lifted his eyes to Hanamaki’s as he slowly rose from his chair to stand before him, fingertips still touching.

“It’s you,” Makki whispered in disbelief, pressing their outstretched palms together. “It’s really you.”

He threaded their trembling fingers together and squeezed Matsukawa’s hand tight as their eyes tracked to their arms. They each had tiny freckles, four-leaf clovers Mattsun realized when he looked closer, starting from the tips of their middle and index fingers and swirling up the back of their hands. At their wrists the clovers bloomed into bold lines that wrapped up their arms to disappear under their shirt sleeves.

A soul mark. And they were flowers. With their hands interlocked the petals that blossomed over their skin still tingled, and it took Matsukawa’s breath away. They had Freesia, and Forget-Me-Not’s, and swaths of what looked like Red Poppies arced around the petals of a Camellia, but mixed in Mattsun could see that his mark had flowers Hanamaki’s didn’t have.

He tried to pick out the ones he knew—Bluebells, and Lily of the Valley, and a field of sunflowers that stretched to his shoulder. Hanamaki’s mark was similar, mixed in with their shared flowers he had Azalea, and Pansy, and Anemone dotted up to his sleeve.

When he dragged his gaze back to Makki’s face he found a pair of hazel eyes already focused on him with tears glistening in the corners. He cupped Makki’s cheek in his free hand, and couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face when he felt him lean into his touch.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Matsukawa whispered back.

“Oh, would you kiss him already?! Some of us have to get back to work.” Oikawa shot them a look overtop the espresso machine—somehow both excited and exasperated all at once.

Both their cheeks darkened when they realized they had an audience of the few people still huddled around the coffee shop. “Well,” Makki chuckled, “better do as the man says. He looks feisty.”

He’s not the only one, Matsukawa thought. “I think someone’s just impatient,” he hummed as he pulled Hanamaki close with the hands that were still clasped between them. Matsukawa gently tipped Makki’s face upward, smiling as he felt his fingers thread through the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

Hanamaki blinked up at him, close enough for Mattsun to feel his breath across his face. He paused with his lips hovering just over Makki’s.

“So,” he hummed, “still think that penny was unlucky?”

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEN THEY KISSED! ヽ(´ー`)ﾉ
> 
> Sorry, I know I’m an awful tease. I really hope you enjoyed it though! For an extra little bonus look up Hanakotoba for the meanings behind the flowers in their marks.
> 
> **Update!** Now with gorgeous art from Finnthebunneh! Go check her out! [twitter](https://twitter.com/finnthebunneh/status/1276631410829295621) | [tumblr](https://finnthebunneh.tumblr.com/post/622022934601547776/matsuhana-commission-for-catastrafey-a-gift-for)  
> Thanks so much for reading! I’d love to hear what you think. Drop me a comment or come yell at me on Tumblr 
> 
> [@beauxxxtifullies](https://beauxxxtifullies.tumblr.com/)  
> ♡ ♡ ♡


End file.
